


Crossed Paths

by ivy475



Category: 3 From Hell, House of 1000 Corpses (Movies), The Devil's Rejects, otis driftwood - Fandom, otis driftwood x ofc
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drug Use, Erotica, F/M, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivy475/pseuds/ivy475
Summary: Scarlett Gray runs into an old business associate and his sister, who are on the run from the police. She gives them temporary shelter until it's safe for them to flee from the area.
Relationships: Otis B. Driftwood (House of 1000 Corpses)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

As I wandered the aisles of the local A&P grocery store, the reporter's grim words from the channel 12 breaking news report I had watched earlier that morning echoed through my head. Physically, I was in the establishment. Mentally, I was still standing in my kitchen doorway with my eyes glued to the broadcast.

"I am standing outside the perimeter of what is turning out to be the most horrific crime scene since Jack the Ripper stalked the streets of London. What police have uncovered reads like this - human skulls used as ornaments. Body parts stuffed in refrigerators. And I can't believe what it says here - a mass grave of decomposing bodies dumped under the crawlspace of the house.

Police believe most of the victims were drugged, kidnapped, and sexually assaulted. Also inside the house, police discovered a collection of diaries and scrapbooks detailing the accounts of more than seventy-five murders.

The leader of this group, who is somewhat of a local celebrity, goes by the name of Captain Spaulding, along with two other suspects known as Otis B. Driftwood and Baby Firefly. In an attempt to help the Ruggsville Police Department, we would like to show you the mugshots of the suspects known to have escaped the raid earlier this morning."

As pictures of an old crime partner flashed across the TV screen, I dropped my coffee and clapped my hands over my mouth. The mug shattered on the kitchen floor, the hot liquid inside sloshing onto my feet. Ignoring my burning skin, I gawked at the TV for the rest of the report.

"The family responsible for these brutal crimes are now known as _The Devil's Rejects_. They are considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you see these suspects, do not attempt to apprehend them. Call your local police department immediately."

An old, decayed farmhouse in Ruggsville was the scene of the hellacious crimes. The fuzz scoured the junk-cluttered property, discovering hundreds of carcasses and skeletons, and a coroner wheeled sheet-covered bodies out the front door on gurneys.

Sheriff John Quincy Wydell was in charge of the operation, and he was on a three-person manhunt.

"Alright, everybody listen up! I want this place gone over with a fine-toothed comb! Wherever these fuckers are, they gotta be close!" he barked in the background.

That part wasn't meant to be televised, but what's a reporter to do when there are rolling cameras all over the place? Some things are going to slip into the news by accident.

Wydell should be more careful about running his mouth in front of the media. I loathed him from the second his determined eyes penetrated my own from my TV screen and hate spewed from his mouth like hot lava. His shiny Sheriff's badge and fancy white hat made him think he was King Shit Of Ruggsville. I hoped his ego would get knocked down a peg or two in the near future.

What intrigued me the most about this investigation, besides my old accomplice's involvement, was the house had been in a shootout. Bullet holes decorated the dilapidated structure, and all the windows were shattered. The police weren't commenting on that. Every time someone tried to ask, they deflected the question.

Had the 3 remaining suspects fled while injured? I had no idea, but the thought of my old accomplice sneaking away while bleeding out really fucked with my head. Everything I had seen on the news about what he and his family had done was heinous, yet I was worried about whether or not he was in one piece. Dane, no matter what he had done, would always hold a special place in my heart.

There were two other family members; one had been killed, the other captured. My intuition told me there was way more to this story than the media was allowed to tell the public.

As I loaded groceries into my cart, I couldn't stop reminiscing. Back when I had known him, Otis had gone by the aliases of Whitey, Drifty, Quincy, or Mr. Hammer. His real name was Dane, but I was the only person on the planet who knew that precious information, for I was the only one he completely trusted.

Dane and I had worked well together. Our plans had been flawless. Any jobs we did went off without a hitch. We read each other's body language and facial expressions like an open book and moved in perfect sync. We never even had to speak to one another. One glance was all it took to get across what we were thinking.

It was when other people were involved when things got complicated. We refused to take part in big jobs unless the other was involved. Other business associates came to accept that we were a package deal.

I wasn't surprised Dane was using the name Otis Driftwood. He had always been a bit obsessed with the Marx brothers' films. He had most likely given Spaulding his alias. I was positive that's where Baby's last name had derived from.

Finished with my shopping, I paid for my items and headed outside to my van. I had retired from the crime life long ago, but I still practiced all of my old routines. Parking where I could observe everything and leave quickly if the need arose was one of them. In this case, I was in the back of the parking lot closest to the exit. I crossed the asphalt quickly, unlocked the back doors to my van, and placed my bags inside.

Just as I was about to close up my van, a faded blue car backed into the parking spot next to mine. The two people inside were talking loud enough for me to hear them.

"I don't wanna be here any longer than we gotta be," a male insisted.

"I'll only be a minute," a female replied. "Just long enough ta git us some drinks and road snacks."

"Well, hurry the fuck up!" he grumped.

"Fuck you!" she snarked.

"Fuck you!" he retorted.

There was something eerily familiar about the man's voice. I peeked through the window on my van's rear door just as an attractive blonde jumped out of the passenger side of the car. She slammed the door and stomped toward the A&P. The man in the driver's seat cussed her up and down, smacking the steering wheel to release his frustrations. Catching sight of his face in the side mirror, I about lost my shit.

"Dane!" I gasped. My heart hammered so fast, it threatened to bust open my ribcage.

15 years ago, he had saved my ass. Now, it was time for me to repay the favor. Crouching down as low as possible, I crept over to his open window.

"Whitey!" I hissed.

His head whipped my way, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped open. "Holy fuck!" He breathed. "Nomad?!"

"I go by Scarlett now."

His forehead wrinkled. "Yer real fuckin' name?"

I grunted.

"You don't even use Gypsy Rose or Shifty anymore?"

"Nah, I left the crime life long ago. I'm retired now."

"Oh. I go by Otis Driftwood now."

"I've seen the news reports."

Huffing, he shook his head. "Of course ya have. What're ya doin' here?"

Jutting my chin in my home's direction, I said, "Same thing as yer companion - buyin' food. I live up on the mountain."

"Hmph, just like ya always dreamed."

"Mmm, hmm."

Otis's full lips spread into a genuine smile, showing off his crooked front tooth. His long, blonde hair had turned gray. There were noticeable age lines around his eyes, but he was as handsome as ever. His intense blue orbs had always transformed my gut into a swarm of butterflies. Today wasn't any different.

"Enough o' the small talk. Listen," I said in a grave tone.

Otis's eyebrows drew together, his attentive gaze concentrating on my poker face. He knew me well enough to know that what I had to say was important.

"How much shit ya got in that car?" I asked.

"Just a couple guns and the clothes on our backs. Why?"

I sighed. "Ya gotta dump it. The pigs are all over this area. They know y'all are here, and they know what kinda car yer drivin'. Anonymous tips have allowed 'em ta tail ya here. If y'all wanna git outta here, ya gotta come with me."

Otis's eyes narrowed. "How do ya know that? Nothin' like that's been on the news."

"I might o' left the crime life b'hind, but I'm still stuck in most o' my old ways. I have a CB radio in my house and in my van. I listen to the police channel fer kicks."

He nodded. "I'm not shocked. Ya always had one back in the day."

"Yeah. Please, man, don't be yer crazy debatin' self and argue with me. Just git in the fuckin' van. This store don't have security cameras. No one'll know where y'all went. The pigs'll find the car, but they won't find you. It'll be like ya just up and disappeared."

Tipping his head, Otis turned off the car engine. I stood and opened the side door of my van. Grabbing the guns he had mentioned, he exited the car and hopped inside. Sitting cross-legged behind my passenger seat, he focused on me.

"My sister ain't gonna like this. She'll prolly put up a fight," he warned.

"She trusts ya, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I reckon you'll have ta convince her ta trust me, too."

"You might have ta do some convincin' o' yer own," Otis said.

"I expect that. Ta be honest, I'm surprised ya ain't arguin' with me about all this. That's what yer good at."

He shook his head. "I know better. You've always had my best interests in mind."

"That's right." I grinned. "I didn't know ya had a sister. You never mentioned any siblings in the past."

"I don't." He shrugged. "Wellllll, not a blood sister. I was adopted into the family."

"Oh. What about the 3rd suspect, Spaulding? Where is he?"

"We're s'pposed ta meet up with 'im. We haven't gotten that far yet."

I grunted. "The pigs are throwin' a wrench in all yer gitaway plans."

"Yeah." Otis scanned me from head to toe. "Ya ain't changed a bit, Scar. You look exactly the same."

Laughing, I twisted a lock of my auburn hair. "Uhh, there might be some gray mixed in. Might have a couple wrinkles, too."

His eyes twinkled. "Shut the fuck up. Yer still sexy as fuck."

"There ya go arguin' again." I twirled around slowly and swiveled my hips, all the while doing a quick scope of the area to check for cops. There were none. "Still fuzz free out there." 

"Good." Otis pointed at himself and raised an eyebrow. "I don't wanna hear shit about you lookin' old. Have you looked at me?"

I leaned against the opening of the van and fingered a strand of his gray hair. "Yeah, I noticed. How could I not? I like it. It suits ya." I patted his full beard before pulling my hand away.

That million-dollar smile Otis reserved just for me lit up his rugged features. My heart thudded. I desperately desired to embrace him, but it wasn't the right time. Someone might notice him, and I didn't want that.

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes sparkling like cobalt diamonds.

"Nah." I shook my head. "Wouldn't be takin' y'all home if I did."

Otis grunted. "Makes sense."

"Why do you ask?"

"Wanna know what I'm walkin' into is all."

 _"That's horseshit,"_ I thought, grinning. _"Motherfucker's still got it fer me."_

I opened my mouth to fuck with him, but footsteps alerted me to another presence.

"Goddamn it, where the fuck is he?!"

Baby had returned. 


	2. Chapter 2

Baby’s irritated voice snapped me out of my smitten daze. I shifted in her direction. She was standing in front of their getaway car with two grocery bags in her hand, burning holes into the driver’s seat with her eyes.

“Otis is right here.” I jacked my thumb over my shoulder. “He didn’t go nowhere. He wouldn’t leave ya b’hind like that.”

“Who the fuck’re you?” she snapped.

I huffed and crossed my arms. I wasn’t surprised by her shitty attitude.

Otis peered around me. “Relax, man.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’ in some bitch’s van? Now ain’t the time ta think with yer dick!” Baby scolded.

“That ain’t what this is about!” he growled. 

I laughed heartily. If she only knew. Besides being crime partners, Otis and I had also been lovers. We hadn’t belonged to one another, but we didn’t sleep with anyone else, either. Otis fucked the occasional corpse, but that didn’t count in my eyes. Sexual release from a cadaver was not the same thing as intimacy with another human being.

Baby stepped towards me with a menacing glint in her eyes. “What, you think that’s funny?” 

I smirked. “Yeah.”

We sized each other up quickly. She grasped the knife on her hip and bared her teeth. My smirk turned into a snicker, and I raised my fists. I wasn’t intimidated in the least. I didn’t plan on making the first move, but I would defend myself if I had to. After all, she was Otis’s sister, and I didn’t want to attack someone he cared for. Besides, we didn’t have time for all that drama. I had to get them out of the area before they were spotted.

“Baby, wait a fuckin’ minute!” Otis ordered, his tone laced with worry. “She ain’t our enemy! I know her! Git yer hand off that fuckin’ knife, git yer fuckin’ ass over here, and listen!” 

Otis didn’t want us to fight. I had no idea what kind of defensive background Baby had, but I was a high ranking black belt. He was aware I could disarm Baby in two seconds. He also knew I could put her on her ass in one swift move. If I had the desire, I could easily kill her.

To my surprise, Baby removed her hand from the hilt of her knife and maneuvered around me cautiously. Her eyes never left mine as she advanced towards her scowling brother. I dropped my hands to my sides.

“Calm the fuck down,” Otis demanded. “This is Scarlett. We used ta work t’gether b’fore I met Cutter. Ya gotta git in her van and come with us.”

“What?! No fuckin’ way! I don’t know her! Why should I trust her?” Baby questioned.

“Fer one, I ain’t never done yer brother wrong. Fer two, my lil CB radio told me the pigs know yer in the area. They know what y’all are drivin’, too. It’s only a matter o’ time b’fore y’all git pinched,” I said calmly.

Her eyes flicked between me and her brother. “That true?” she asked him.

“Scarlett doesn't lie. I trust her. You should, too.”

“What about the part about never doin’ you wrong?” 

“It’s true. She’s always had my best interests at heart.”

Baby dropped her threatening act with a heavy sigh. “Well, okay. If this is what you think we should do, then-”

“I  _ know _ it’s what we should do,” Otis stated. 

Nodding, she sat her bags inside my van next to mine and jumped in. I shut the side door, hiding them from view. Casually walking around to the back door, I secured it, then moved around to the driver’s side. Climbing in, I started the engine and eased out of the parking spot.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” I said, glimpsing in my rearview mirror at the siblings, who looked way too much alike to not be blood related. Their physical similarities baffled me. “There are roadblocks on every street in and outta town. Y’all need ta stay with me until this shit blows over. Might be a day or two ‘til that happens. Just make yerselves at home. I got plenty o’ food, and I can always go out and git more if we need it. I also got plenty o’ alcohol. We'll party together. Just think o’ this as...a…” I clicked my tongue. “...mini vacation.”

“Sounds good ta me,” Otis said.

“I could use a party. What about daddy?” Baby inquired. “We gotta let ‘im know somethin’.”

“You  _ can’t _ ,” I said. “Trust me, the fuzz is tappin’ whoever’s lines they think ya might call.”

“She’s right,” Otis agreed. “Cutter’ll figure it out. He’ll know we ain’t been caught by the news reports. He’ll figure out we’re layin’ low fer a couple days. If I know ‘im as well as I think I do, he’ll move on ta Charlie’s and wait fer us there.”

“I hope so. The last thing I want is fer daddy ta think we abandoned ‘im.”

“He ain’t gonna think that. He might worry, but he’ll know we got shit under control.”

Red and blue flashing lights in my side mirror caught my attention. Cops swarmed the A&P parking lot and surrounded the car the siblings had previously occupied. I turned down the nearest road to avoid unwanted attention.

“Looks like we left just in time,” I announced.

“Yeah?” Otis uttered.

“Yup. The pigs are at the store right now. I saw ‘em in my mirror before I took that last right. Listen.” I switched on my CB radio.

“There’s no one in the car, Sheriff,” an officer declared.

“Turn the goddamn store upside down! Check the fuckin’ perimeter! They couldn't have gotten far!”

“Yes, sir,” the voice fizzled.

I switched the device off. "I think that's all ya need ta hear." 

“Holy shit,” Baby breathed.

“Told ya we can trust her,” Otis said. “She’s saved my ass lots o’ times.”

“You’ve more than returned the favor,” I noted.

“How so?” Baby asked.

“He went ta jail fer me,” I replied.

“Wait, what?!” she screeched.

“We were on a big job. It went bad. I distracted the pigs so she could git away. That was the last time I saw her," Otis explained. 

“You went ta jail fer her?!” Baby couldn’t wrap her head around that. "But you don't give a fuck about anyone but-" 

“Family. Yeah, I know. But I did. And I’d do it again,” he said firmly.

“I took a bullet fer ‘im,” I added, my heart melting.

“Wow,” she uttered, completely shell shocked.

“Me and Scar were tight,” Otis said, shrugging. "Kinda like me and you. Just in a different way."

Baby shook her head to clear away her shock and addressed me. “Where’d you get shot?”

“Right above my left breast. It was just a flesh wound. I jumped in front of Otis. He was distracted. He didn’t see it coming. The bullet was meant for his heart.”

“Jesus, that’s…” She blew out a puff of air. “There’s somethin’ I don’t understand. You’ve seen the news. You know what we’ve done. Yet, yer crazy enough ta let us in yer personal vehicle and take us to yer house.”

“From what I’ve seen on TV, Otis ain’t done nothin’ different now than what he was doin’ back when we were crime partners. I’ve even seen ‘im fuck a corpse. And if he trusts you, so can I. And if I can’t, he would never let you hurt me.”

Otis grunted his agreement.

“Woah, okay...she knows  _ a lot _ ,” she commented to her brother.

“I told you, I trust her.”

“Do you kill people?” she asked.

“Baby, shut the fuck up!” Otis snarled. “That’s enough! This ain’t twenty questions!”

“No! I wanna know more about her!”

“It’s okay, Otis. I don’t mind. I would be wonderin’ why she wasn't askin’ questions if she wasn’t,” I said. “The answer to yer question, Baby, is yes, I have killed, but I don’t do it fer fun like Otis does. I did it cuz I had to.”

“You got an old man or somethin’? You live with anyone?” she inquired.

“Nah, it’s just me.”

"No fuckin' way. Yer way too hot ta be single."

Otis snorted. “Scar never did like people very much. She likes solitude. Can’t really see her ever livin’ with anyone. She tolerated me on and off fer years, which always confused me.”

“Y’all lived t’gether?”

“When it was necessary,” I replied, turning onto the wooded road that led up the mountain. 

Baby elbowed her brother’s ribs. “Why have you never told me any o’ this?!” 

“Unf! Goddamn it, Baby! Don’t do that!”

She giggled.

“Fuck you,” Otis huffed. “Yer lucky yer my fuckin' sister.”

“Seriously, why don’t I know about her?” 

“That’s the past. Didn’t see much point in bringin’ her up.”

_ “It hurts, that’s why,” _ I thought, peering at the masked despair in Otis’s guarded eyes. Our separation had bothered him immensely. 

Baby studied his nonchalant expression. She knew there was way more to us than he was willing to admit.

"Y'all used ta fuck too, didn't ya?" she blurted. 

Otis rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. 

I snickered. “Is it that obvious?” 

“It is from the way my brother's actin’. He's not close ta anyone outside the family. He doesn't give a fuck about anyone but us. Every time I ask somethin’ about you that he don’t like-" 

"Look,” Otis interjected. “Scarlett was my family before y'all were. The only reason why she ain't now is cuz I went to the clink and we lost touch. Now that I've seen her, it's like she was never gone from my life."

I grinned at him in the rearview mirror. "Love you, too, ya psychotic fucker."

The corner of Otis's lip curled into a ghost of a smile. "Whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Fuck this sentimental bullshit."

I chuckled. They continued to bicker about me while I turned down a few more hilly roads. Baby argued that Otis had hidden a major part of his life from her. She felt betrayed. To get her to shut up, Otis admitted our life together was something he didn’t like to think or talk about. He explained it left him too vulnerable, which he despised. Understanding, she left him alone. I kept it to myself, but I was the only person he exposed his heart in front of.

Finally, I turned down my long driveway. My quaint wooden cabin greeted us, and Baby gasped.

"This place is amazing," she gushed. "The view is gorgeous.”

“Thanks. You can see the lake from the back deck," I said.

“The one we passed on the way in ta town?” Otis asked.

"Yeah. I worked really hard for this place."

“I bet,” they said in unison.

“There ain’t a neighbor around fer miles.”

I turned off the van, and we hopped out. I sauntered around to their side to grab my bags, but Otis already had them in his hands. Rooted to his spot, he ingested the tree-laden property. Baby mirrored his every move.

_ ‘Kindred spirits,’ _ I thought.  _ ‘That's why they look so much alike, too.' _

"Goddamn, this is exactly what you always wanted,” Otis marveled. “A nice-sized cabin in the forest, extreme solitude, even down to the rustic design. Is there a hot tub, too?" 

I smirked. "Of course there is. It’s around back on the deck. Wouldn't be my dream home without one."

He chuckled. “My girl’s done well fer herself. Way ta go, mama.”

I smiled at the “my girl” comment.

"Holy shit! A hot tub?! I wanna git fucked up and git in it!" Baby shrieked. 

"Hmmm…” I glanced at her medium frame and thin build. “You look ta be the same size as me. I prolly have somethin’ you can wear."

"I'll git in naked if you don't. I don't give a fuck."

I laughed. "That won't be necessary."

Otis stroked his beard. "Guess I'll have ta wear my drawers, huh?"

"I might have something you can wear, too. I think I still have some o’ yer old clothes."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously? Why would you keep ‘em?" 

I rolled a shoulder. “I was hopin’ we'd cross paths again some day."

He grunted, his eyes sparkling. Baby giggled.

"Let's go inside," I suggested. “No point in standin’ here holdin’ bags when we can go in and talk just the same.”

Baby nodded. “Okay.”

“Lead the way.” Otis jutted his chin towards the house. 

They followed me up the steps onto the front porch and to the front door. I unlocked it, and we shuffled inside. Otis took a look at the layout and grinned. 

“A living room with a fireplace and a mini bar, a dining room, a kitchen-”

“And a full bath and a bedroom,” I finished. “The master bedroom takes up the whole upstairs and has its own bathroom. One of y’all can have the other bedroom, one can sleep on the couch in the living room. It’s a fold out.”

“Baby, you take the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

“I ain’t gonna argue with that,” she said.

“Wow, yer not gonna fight me? It’s a fuckin’ miracle!”

Baby smacked his stomach. “You have no room ta talk.”

“Oof! Stop!” Otis scowled.

She giggled. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Their sibling banter was amusing. 

They tagged along as I wandered into the kitchen. They placed our bags on the table, and I began to put my groceries away.

“I gotta pee,” Baby whined.

“You always gotta piss,” Otis grumped.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the right,” I directed.

“Thanks.”

She disappeared from view. I opened the fridge, set a gallon of milk inside, and closed the door. As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, Otis tapped my shoulder. 

“Scar?” he said under his breath.

I stopped moving and stared into his mesmerizing blue eyes. My chest filled with a warm fuzziness I hadn’t felt in years. “Yeah?”

“It’s really good ta see ya.” 

I nodded.

Otis drug his fingertip down my arm. Goosebumps trailed after his intimate touch. “It’s almost surreal,” he added. “I thought I’d never see you ever again.”

“I know. Me, too.” 

He had too much pride to confess he wanted physical contact, so I embraced him. Wrapping his arms around me, he sighed heavily. The irony smell of old blood, sweaty body odor, and a touch of bodily decomposition wafted up my nostrils. As I looked up at him, I noticed how knotty his hair was. He had never practiced good hygiene.

“Otis,” I said, kissing his bearded jaw. “Yer rank. When’s the last time ya had a shower?”

“I dunno,” he replied, rubbing his hands over my back. “A couple days, at least.”

“You been fuckin’ corpses again?”

“I was in bed with one when we got raided.”

“And Baby? When’s the last time she cleaned up?”

“No fuckin’ clue.”

“We need ta remedy that asap.”

“Prolly a good idea,” he agreed.

“And when’s the last time ya brushed or combed yer hair?”

Otis shrugged. “It’s a goddamn rat’s nest right now.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s gittin’ done t’night. I’ll do it,” I offered. “I know how much ya hate combin’ yer hair.”

“Fuckin’ right I hate it.”

“Lemme finish puttin’ these groceries away, then I’ll hunt fer some clothes fer y’all.”

He tipped his head. I backed away and resumed placing things where they belonged. He sat at the kitchen table and watched my every move. Most folks would have found that creepy, but Otis had observed everything I did for as long as I could remember. I was used to his eyes on me. 

Just as I finished with my groceries, Baby bounced back into the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind, but I snuck upstairs and took a look at yer room. It’s pretty awesome. That jacuzzi in yer bathroom is callin’ my name.”

“Thanks. I don’t mind. I told ya ta make yerself at home.” I gestured to her bags. “You can leave yer stuff in the bags, or you can put it away. It’s up ta you. I’m gonna go look fer some clothes so y’all can clean up. Otis reeks.”

“So do I. A shower would be great. The jacuzzi’ll have ta wait cuz I don’t wanna soak in my own dirt.”

I smiled. “Okay.” 

As I strolled from the room, I could feel Otis’s eyes on my backside. He was probably staring at my ass. 


	3. Chapter 3

Baby and I picked out a yellow cotton sundress, a white silk nightgown, and a red triangle bikini for her to wear while she and Otis stayed with me. She tried them on after her shower. They fit her perfectly. She was pleased.

After a lot of digging through my walk-in closet, I found a box of Otis’s old belongings. It contained a pair of camo pants, a holey pair of black jeans, 2 sleeveless shirts, a military-style green jacket covered in random patches, flannel pajama pants, and a few pairs of underwear and socks. There was even a pair of boots inside, but there weren’t any swimming trunks, which didn’t shock me. From what I remembered, Otis didn’t particularly enjoy swimming. If he submerged his body in any type of water, he was always in his birthday suit.

Otis had been right when he said he would have to wear his drawers in the hot tub. I wasn’t complaining. He wore tighty whities, which were transparent when wet and clinging to his body. If he wanted to ditch his drawers, it wouldn’t bother me in the least. Baby, I wasn’t too sure about. She might not appreciate her brother's shameless nudity.

When I called down to Otis for help with the box, its contents pleasantly surprised him.

“Hey!” A toothy smile graced his rugged features. “I wondered what the fuck happened ta this jacket! I can’t believe you still have all this shit!”

“I told ya I was hopin’ we’d cross paths again. I hope it all still fits.” I examined his lanky build quickly. “I think you’ll be fine. Ya don’t look like you've gained or lost any weight. Yer just a little leaner.”

His smile widened. I followed as he carried the box downstairs and sat it on the dining room table. Clicking his tongue, he decided on the black and gray flannel bottoms. He reached into the box for a shirt, but stalled and shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t need a shirt right now. I’m just gonna end up takin’ it off later. What’s the point?”

Nodding, I stacked a pair of underwear and socks on top of the pants in his arms. “Go git cleaned up and we’ll talk about food while I comb yer rat’s nest. Can’t start drinkin’ on empty stomachs, now can we?”

“That don’t fuck with me, but I know it makes you sick as a fuckin’ dog.”

“Correct.”

Otis tipped his head, swaggered toward the hallway bathroom, and shut the door. Baby, who was draped on the couch with her head on a pillow, giggled.

“Yer definitely someone special. I’ve never seen my brother listen like that. He hates ta be ordered around. Usually, he does whatever the fuck he wants. He’ll throw a total tantrum if he doesn’t wanna do somethin’. Otis does things at _his_ pace and no one else’s.”

“Yeah, well…” I plopped down in my lazy boy recliner. “I’m not orderin’ ‘im, per say. Back in the day, Otis and I had an understanding. He could do whatever he desired, but he had ta be clean if he wanted ta be in my presence. I don’t wanna smell armpit and dead bodies. Same thing went fer ‘is bedroom when we lived t’gether. Keep that motherfucker clean, and git rid o’ the corpses b’fore they start ta decompose.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did he actually do it?”

“Yeah.”

“No fuckin’ way,” she marveled.

“Way.” I chuckled. “When we didn’t have a choice but ta share a room, which happened occasionally, corpses weren’t allowed in the house. As you can imagine, we moved around a lot.”

“Yeah, Otis was a drifter when Daddy met ‘im. I’m bettin’ you were, too.”

“Mmm, hmm. We drifted t’gether. We let our adventures lead us wherever.”

“Goddamn, that’s the fuckin’ life right there,” Baby said, her voice laced with nostalgia. “Me and Otis did that fer a couple years. I miss it. We joined a Satanic cult and went on a huge murdering spree. But we got kicked out o’ the cult cuz Otis stabbed another member ta death with a broken bottle. I went home first. He followed once he got more rage outta his system.”

“What made ‘im finally come home?” I asked. “There has ta be another reason cuz he’s been releasin’ rage ever since I’ve known ‘im. It ain’t like he can stop. He’ll never stop.”

“Yer right. There was another reason. Our murder spree was on the news. The media called ‘em the Son of Satan Murders.”

“Oh, shit! I remember that! That was you and Otis?!”

She smirked. “Sure was. His intuition told ‘im he was gonna git caught, so he came home.”

“I remember the murders suddenly stopped. The pigs had no idea what was goin’ on or what ta do.” I laughed. “That’s been a cold case fer years now.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

I tipped my head. “Indeed.”

We continued to converse while Otis washed up. Baby spoke about things she and Otis had done in the past, I did the same. I was telling her about how our last job together had gone bad when he emerged from the bathroom.

“There was this cat we were suspicious of cuz we never saw ‘im or worked with ‘im b’fore...” I said, trailing off.

As Otis crossed the living room, my gaze lingered on his upper body. His shoulders, chest and abs were more defined than they used to be. I moistened my lips. He was fully aware I was checking him out. His eyes sparkled, but he kept a straight face.

Handing me a comb, he sat Indian style on the floor between my open knees. I skimmed his backside. His slim hips and cute little ass hadn’t changed, and I had always loved his back. His skin was smooth, but his muscles were distinct. I used to love to trace them with my fingertips while we were in bed together.

Clearing my throat, I continued. “He just kinda showed up at places we hung out at and planted ‘imself in ta our circle. He started doin’ jobs with some of our associates. Those jobs worked out, so when he got put on a big job with me and Otis, we ignored our intuition. After all, he had worked jobs with others and things had been fine. Why would this job go any different?”

“Never ignore yer gut,” Baby commented.

“Yeah, no shit. Turns out that motherfucker was an undercover pig,” Otis grumped. “The fuzz was after this other asshole we worked with sometimes. Fucker just happened ta be on our job that day. The fuzz knew exactly where and when shit was goin’ down cuz o’ the undercover pig.” He scoffed. “We were in the wrong fuckin’ place at the wrong fuckin’ time. We should o’ listened to our guts and backed out, but we wanted the money.”

“We got greedy. It was a bank robbery,” I added.

“Oh, damn,” Baby muttered. “That’s a lot o’ fuckin’ cash.”

“Yeah. Otis saw what was goin’ down b’fore I did. We weren’t in the bank. We were outside. He and another dude were on lookout, I was the getaway driver. Otis warned me via hand signal ta git the fuck outta dodge. He let ‘imself git captured while they swarmed the bank. He created the distraction so I could escape. I drove away sobbin’. I dealt with a lot o’ guilt fer a long time. I hated that I was free and he wasn’t. We should o’ both been in jail.”

Otis scooted back against the chair, laid his head in my lap, and gazed up at me. “There was no fuckin’ way I was lettin’ you go ta jail. Fuck that. The 5 years I served was worth it.”

My lips curled into an appreciative smile. Stroking his damp beard, I held up the comb. He straightened up, and I pulled his wet hair behind his back.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you wanted anything ta do with money. You hate the shit," Baby pointed out.

Otis shrugged. "Scarlett had her dream, and I wanted ta disappear fer awhile. A sizeable sum o’ cash was the only way ta git what we both wanted."

Nodding, I combed the ends of Otis's hair carefully. It was super knotty, and I didn't want to hurt him. After a few more attempts, I realized his hair needed a detangler.

"I'll be right back," I announced, setting the comb on the end table next to me. Otis started to move out of my way, but I gripped his shoulder to hold him down. “I can git ‘round, no problem.”

He grunted. Bringing one foot over his head and down next to the other, I stood and headed to the hallway bathroom. I didn’t use a detangler that often, so I wasn’t sure if I had left it downstairs or upstairs. As I rooted through the cabinets, their hushed voices drifted to my sensitive ears.

"Oh, you _really_ like her. Don’t bother denyin’ it.”

Otis sighed. “That right there is the understatement o’ the fuckin’ century.”

“Yer lettin’ her comb yer hair without a fight. I’ve asked ya ta let me do it a million times, but ya always tell me ta fuck off.”

“I don’t want you touchin’ me,” he griped.

“That’s just it. Yer lettin’ her _touch_ you. You don’t let anyone touch you,” Baby stated. “And yer _comfortable_ with it; content, even.”

“So?”

“It’s weird.”

“Why do ya care?”

"You loved her. That's why ya went ta jail fer her," she blurted.

Otis growled. He hated admitting any kind of emotion besides anger. "I _still_ love her. I always will. She’s the one who got away. And I don’t mean from the fuzz."

My heart skipped a beat. _‘I love you, too,’_ I thought. _‘We gotta talk.’_

"You never told us about her because it hurts."

"Look,” he hissed. “I was fucked up back then. Way more than I am now. I didn't know what I had until it was too goddamn late. As you know, I wasn’t exactly raised with…” he groped for words. “...well, I wasn’t brought up with what she gave me. With what she _still_ gives me. I didn’t know what any o’ that shit was. I just knew it felt good. _She_ felt good."

_‘Oh, Otis,’_ I thought wistfully. _‘I know, honey, I know.’_

"I was in the clink when it hit me. I read a lot o’ books while I was in there about all kinds o’ shit. Even topics I didn’t like. It didn’t matter what I read cuz it helped pass the time. I pieced everything t’gether from those books and my memories. I learned about what she gave me, and about what I had fucked up. Hurt is an accurate word, yeah, but Scarlett didn't do any o’ the hurtin’. It was all me. I hurt myself, and I did it a lot. I thought I deserved it. I thought I wasn’t good enough fer her. I _still_ think that.” Otis sighed heavily. “I prolly hurt her, too. In fact, I know I did, but gittin’ somethin’ like that outta her is like yankin’ teeth."

“Sounds familiar,” Baby said, giggling.

“Man, fuck you! Shut the fuck up! I’m-”

“Fuck you!” she snarked. “I’ll say what I want!”

Otis released an exasperated breath. “Sometimes yer the equivalent of a spoiled fuckin’ brat.”

She snickered. “You can blame Daddy fer that.”

“Yeah, I know it’s that old bitch hog’s fault. I tell ‘im all the fuckin’ time.”

Baby changed the conversation back to the original subject. “Otis, y’all have unfinished business, and from the look and sound of it, it’s _a lot_ of unfinished business. You can fix things if you really wanna. Tell her how you feel. Ask her ta come with us.”

He snorted. “No fuckin’ way! She’s not gonna abandon the life she’s made fer herself, the one she’s always wanted. This place was her dream, and she made it come true. I’m just an insane killer. A sadist. A rapist. A necrophiliac. She doesn’t wanna get mixed up in my bullshit. I don’t _want_ her ta be. She deserves way better.”

“Somethin’ tells me this ain’t really her dream without you. And b’sides, she was mixed up in yer bullshit in the past. Why is now any different?”

“Hmph...she’s not wrong about that,” I noted under my breath as I closed a cabinet. All I had ever desired in life besides my dream home was to have Otis by my side. My life was empty without him.

“We’re wanted by-”

Otis shut his mouth as I exited the bathroom and headed for the steps. As soon as Baby thought she was in the clear, she disagreed with her brother.

“Yer wrong,” she stated firmly. “You are good enough fer her. She loves you, too, or she wouldn’t have jumped in front of a bullet fer you. She obviously doesn’t care about who the fuck we’re wanted by. We’re in her house, aren’t we? If she gits caught helpin’ us, she’s in deep shit. I think she’d come with us. I think she’d do anything fer you.”

“What the fuck do you know about love?!” Otis snapped. “You’ve never had a boyfriend in all the years I’ve known you! You fuck fer money! You wouldn’t know what the fuck ta do with a relationship! You don’t know shit about sacrifice, compromise, or respectin’ boundaries! Right now, yer oversteppin’ one o’ _my_ boundaries, and we’re only siblings!”

“Yer right, I wouldn’t know. Not in that way. I know platonically, not romantically, but there’s an intense connection b’tween y’all, and that deserves recognition. The way y’all look at each other makes me wanna puke. The fact that she knows about yer necrophilia fetish and doesn’t bat an eye says a lot. Only someone who loves you could accept that!”

“Maybe so, but there’s nothin’ in the cards fer us. There never was. We ain’t meant ta be,” Otis argued. “Now shut the fuck up and keep yer fuckin’ nose outta our...relationship...friendship...whatever the fuck ya wanna call it. I don’t need yer fuckin’ advice. It’s none o’ yer fuckin’ business. Scar and I know what we are. We had agreements about a lot o’ shit. Those agreements’ll always stand.”

“Yeah, she mentioned the one about you stayin’ clean…”

As I entered my master bathroom, their voices drained away. I located the detangler, grabbed a towel, and hurried downstairs. I returned to the living room to find Otis and Baby glaring at each other.

“Y’all sure ya ain’t blood related?” I teased. “Ya sure fight like ya are. Yer physical similarities’re astoundin’ as well. Y’all definitely pass fer brother and sister.”

Baby giggled. “Nope.” She touched her heart. “Just here.”

Otis’s eyes narrowed. “How much o’ that shit did ya hear?”

“Enough,” I uttered.

Climbing into the chair behind him, I smoothed his hair and landed a kiss on top of his head. He placed his head in my lap. As his fiery blue eyes pierced my soul, my insides turned to jello.

“No, seriously. How much?”

“Enough ta know yer sister cares about you and only desires yer happiness,” I answered.

“She’s not wrong,” Baby agreed.

Otis straightened up. “Well, you sure got a fucked up way o’ showin’ it.”

“So do you,” she retorted. “Asshole.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he hollered.

“Neither one o’ y’all know how ta have a discussion without arguin’,” I interjected. “You can’t even talk without fightin’.”

“Yeah, runs in the family,” Baby muttered. “Except fer Mama. I can always talk ta her. And, well, Tiny doesn’t talk.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone genuine. I had no idea who Tiny was. His name hadn’t been on the news, but I was positive her mother’s arrest and her brother’s death were difficult for her.

“Thank you.”

Scowling, she turned away from us and faced the couch. Otis rubbed his hand over his face and through his beard. He was most likely squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. To soothe him, I laid the towel and detangler in my lap and clasped his shoulders.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Just relax.”

As I kneaded his tense muscles, he melted under my touch. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his chin to his chest. I massaged the back and sides of his neck, and when he was ready, he angled his face towards the ceiling so I could gently scratch his entire jaw. It was an old routine of ours for when he was stressed.

“How’s that?” I asked, running my thumb down his Adam's apple. “Better?”

Otis grunted his approval, his droopy eyes shining with lust.

“Talk about quieting the beast,” Baby remarked. She had faced us and was studying her brother’s reaction to my affection.

I winked. Otis sneered, his eyes darkening.

“I am the Devil,” he corrected.

“I am the Devil,” she mocked.

“Knock it off and act like adults,” I scolded. “Y’all ain’t 5.”

Baby giggled. Her brother huffed.

“Pull yer hair to the front so I can put this towel over yer shoulders,” I instructed. “This detangler’ll be cold on yer skin.”

Otis obeyed. I draped the towel around him, moved his hair behind his back, and sprayed a ton of detangler on it.

“Christ! I feel like I’ve had a second goddamn shower,” he complained.

“You even smell nice,” I joked.

“Ain’t we just havin’ a fuckin’ hoot,” Otis grumbled under his breath.

“Would you rather smell like a corpse?” I paused. “No, wait. Don’t answer that.”

The siblings laughed heartily.

“That’s better. I want yer time here ta be fun,” I said, untangling a large knot with ease. “Yer hair has thinned a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I’m old,” Otis muttered.

“Honey, please. Yer barely 50. And I told you, I _like_ the gray.”

“We already had this conversation when we first saw each other. No need ta have it again.”

“Let’s talk about food instead.”

“I could use some food,” Baby mumbled.

“Otis prefers human flesh, but I don’t have any fresh bodies on hand...” I pondered, scratching my chin.

He chuckled.

Baby’s eyes widened. “You’d actually cook human flesh just fer _him_?”

I kept a straight face but stayed quiet.

“She’s jokin’,” Otis clarified. “Scarlett’s sense o’ humor can be very dry. Sometimes you’ll have no clue she’s fuckin’ around. Just look in ta her eyes. You’ll see the playful glint.”

“Oh.”

I laughed. “No, I wouldn’t cook human meat. Otis used ta do that all by ‘imself.”

“I’m a cannibal too, but I’ll eat whatever,” she said.

“You know I’ll eat anything you make,” Otis declared.

Smiling, I hugged him from behind and kissed his fuzzy cheek. As I pulled away, he squeezed one of my hands.

“Okay, once I’m done with yer hair, we’ll all take a look in the kitchen,” I said.

He grunted.

“I’ll give ya a hand with cookin’,” Baby offered.

“Alright, cool. Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “Don’t lemme fergit ta put y’alls dirty clothes in the warsher.”

“Okay,” they said.

It took another few minutes to comb all the knots out of Otis’s hair. Once I had finished, we relocated to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading my works!


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